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The tunnels beneath Orc Town were pitch-black, and there were many places even the Half-orcs who lived there refused to enter.

Now, guided by the glow of Gandalf's magic, the company kept running toward the tunnel exit.

They had been down there for quite some time and had fought several battles with the Half-orcs who caught up with them.

Even now, an endless stream of Half-orcs pursued them, determined to avenge their lord.

That was not very Half-orc-like at all.

Allen ran behind Gandalf, enduring the pain in his left arm.

The waves of pain from his arm had sharpened his senses tremendously.

Just as he was about to follow Gandalf out of the cave, he heard a faint sound.

Had it not been for his unusual condition, he might never have heard it.

The sound came from a narrow tunnel beside him.

Allen was worried that Half-orcs might be lying in ambush for the companions behind him.

He drew his longsword, darted inside, and cornered a strange creature behind a rock at swordpoint.

The creature was short, with pale skin and only a few sparse hairs on his head. A pair of ragged trousers covered his lower body.

He pressed himself tightly against the rock behind him, raised both hands, and stared at Allen with huge eyes, looking frightened and aggrieved.

It was Gollum.

Allen looked down at this former Hobbit. After two or three seconds of silence, he stepped back, turned, and left.

Just then, a gust of wind drifted past Allen.

Allen knew that Bilbo Baggins had obtained the One Ring.

He paid it little mind, hurried after the company, and emerged from the cave.

At last, they ran out through the gates of Orc Town. To escape the Half-orcs pursuing them, they kept running in the opposite direction for a long time.

Only as the sun sank in the west did they stop in a patch of woodland for a brief rest.

Allen took out his waterskin and drank a mouthful of Miruvor. Warmth spread through his body, and even the pain in his left arm seemed to ease a little.

He used the time to inspect the injury to his left arm, then looked at Bilbo Baggins, who had suddenly appeared. A glint of gold between the Hobbit's fingers briefly dazed him.

The Hobbit was sharing his heartfelt thoughts with the Dwarves.

His words, "I'll do everything I can to help you reclaim your home,"

undoubtedly moved every Dwarf present.

Allen knew that, from this moment on, the Hobbit's kindness had changed Thorin Oakenshield's opinion of him.

Of course, that was not enough to settle Allen's wager with Thorin Oakenshield.

Allen did not particularly care about that, either. He believed in Bilbo Baggins.

Sooner or later, this Hobbit would win over Thorin Oakenshield's proud, prickly heart.

For now, Allen was worried about something else: Azog. He should be arriving any moment.

Sure enough, before long, a series of wolf howls rang out, telling Allen and the others that Azog was coming. He had brought Wargs and Warg Riders to hunt down Thorin Oakenshield.

Before they had even had a proper rest, Thorin said, "Out of the frying pan," and Gandalf added, "Into the fire." Then everyone ran frantically in the opposite direction.

Allen was fast, staying close behind Gandalf.

Since he knew this part of the story well, he followed Gandalf straight to the last great tree.

Ignoring the pain in his left arm, he climbed higher than Gandalf and found a reasonably sturdy foothold.

Several Wargs had caught up with the members at the rear of the company. After a brief fight, they, too, scrambled up the nearby pine trees.

Allen spotted Bilbo being chased by a Warg. Without a second thought, he drew the Rune Bow and loosed an arrow at the beast pursuing him.

He had meant to aim at the Warg's head, but the pain threw off his shot.

The arrow struck the Warg's back, its sharp point plunging straight into its internal organs. Bilbo Baggins successfully climbed a pine tree, and Allen breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned his gaze farther into the distance again. A large pack of Wargs had appeared there.

Azog stood atop a rock, mounted on his white she-wolf.

He brandished his weapon, spouting melodramatic lines.

"Do you smell it? That is the scent of fear."

Allen, who had disliked him for a long time, recklessly aimed at his chest and fired an arrow.

The arrow missed its intended mark, but by sheer chance, it pierced Azog's arm-the left arm Thorin Oakenshield had already cut off once.

It was an unmistakable insult to Azog. Furious, he ordered the Wargs to attack the pine trees sheltering the company, sending the sharp-toothed, sharp-clawed beasts into action.

Under the Wargs' assault, Allen soon lost any chance to shoot. In fact, after that last arrow, the pain in his left arm had grown much worse.

Even if an opportunity arose, he no longer had the strength to fire another arrow. All he could do was cling tightly to the shaking trunk with his right arm, lest one careless slip send him falling.

Allen had just seen Gandalf quietly say something to Little Moth.

He trusted that the Great Eagles would soon come to their aid. He only needed to hold on a little longer.

But luck truly was not on Allen's side that day. As the Wargs shook the tree, the branch beneath his feet snapped.

Using only his right arm and legs, he clung to the trunk like a koala.

The situation had become dire. The pine trees sheltering the Dwarves fell one after another, and soon every Dwarf had gathered in Allen and Gandalf's tree.

Before long, Allen felt flames roaring beneath the pine, and the Dwarves began to cheer.

Then, amid their cheers, the pine tree bearing every member of the company toppled.

Allen clung to the trunk like a sloth, dangling over the cliff. With his view severely restricted, he could not see what was happening above the precipice. Anxiously, he tried to climb onto the trunk.

But it was far too difficult with only one arm. Every attempt sent unbearable pain through his left arm.

He nearly lost his grip and fell into the depths below. Helpless, Allen could only give up and wait for things to turn around.

Fortunately, he did not have to endure this for long before the cries of the Great Eagles rang out.

Allen seized his chance, released the trunk, and dropped onto a Great Eagle's back. He knew this leg of the journey had come to an end.

The Great Eagles carried the company for a long time, flying from night until dawn before bringing them to the vicinity of Carl Rock.

A scout from Wilderness Town was keeping watch atop Carl Rock. At first, he only noticed the Great Eagles approaching and wondered why so many had come that day.

But soon, he spotted figures on their backs. He took out a small spyglass and saw his lord.

Three or four years earlier, Thranduil had given Allen two transparent crystals as a return gift. After pondering what to do with them for a long time, Allen had handed them to the town's Dwarven craftsmen to grind into lenses, then made a simple telescope.

Because it was needed for scouting, he had left it on Carl Rock to help the scouts keep better watch over the surrounding area.

Once the Great Eagle landed, Allen slid down from its back. Recognizing the scout, he immediately gave an order.

"Tell the people in town that I'm back."

The scout acknowledged the order, then turned and hurried off to work.

Meanwhile, Gandalf was treating the unconscious Thorin Oakenshield's injuries.

Allen noticed that Gandalf's magic differed from the healing magic he normally imagined.

It was more like a divine art, focused on healing spiritual injuries rather than physical ones.

Before long, Thorin Oakenshield woke to Gandalf's repeated calls. The very first thing he did upon waking was cry out Bilbo's name.

Seeing this, Allen knew the story had followed its original course.

After a series of reproaches, Thorin Oakenshield finally changed his attitude toward Bilbo completely.

Once his emotions had settled, he exchanged a glance with Allen and nodded to him.

Thorin Oakenshield knew that, at this point, he had lost his wager with Allen.

Meanwhile, the scout raised a large flag on the side of Carl Rock facing Wilderness Town.

The flag was pale green, embroidered with a golden crown and three silver-white five-pointed stars above it.

This large flag represented Allen.

In fact, many flags had been prepared on Carl Rock. The ones commonly used were yellow and red.

Yellow meant that vigilance was required: strangers were approaching.

Red meant that they should prepare for war: enemies were approaching.

The direction and number of flags also indicated the direction and size of the approaching group.

Today, for instance, Allen's flag had been placed on the side of Carl Rock facing Wilderness Town, indicating that he had appeared near Carl Rock.

Allen looked at his companions on Carl Rock and coughed loudly several times to draw everyone's attention.

Then, with his uninjured right arm, he directed their gazes toward his domain.

"My friends," he said, "welcome to my domain, Wilderness Town."

Looking in the direction Allen indicated from atop Carl Rock, the first thing they saw was a town standing a short distance away.

At the very center of the town, also its highest point, stood a splendid house with a courtyard. As the ground sloped downward, more than a thousand houses built of brick and timber stood in neat rows around it.

Farther out, four blue-gray walls enclosed the entire town in an irregular rectangle, protecting its people and buildings.

Warriors carrying bows on their backs and spears in their hands patrolled the walls, constantly watching for possible danger.

There were also wooden barbicans outside the gates on the town's eastern and western sides.

Two broad roads stretched from the gates into the distance. Smaller paths branched off along them like tree limbs, threading through the fields around the town.

The crops in those fields were flourishing. A single glance was enough to tell that this year's harvest would be exceptionally good. Many farmers were busy in the fields, tending their crops.

"All right, everyone, enough looking. Now, please allow me to invite you to visit my domain. I'll make sure you're all well looked after."

The Dwarves on Carl Rock, whose emotions had now settled, were all rather surprised by Allen's invitation.

They had never expected a human lord with such power at his disposal to join them on this perilous adventure.

Thorin Oakenshield was particularly surprised. He had known Allen was a human leader, but had never imagined his town was already so prosperous.

Surprised though they were, everyone's spirits rose. At last, they would have somewhere to rest properly.

They had suffered considerably along the way, and many had minor injuries. Only their resilience, ingrained in their Dwarven bones, had kept them going.

Humans would have given out long ago-such as a certain human lord with an injured arm.

Just as Allen led everyone down from Carl Rock, Firentis appeared with a cavalry unit from the direction of town.

He soon stopped beside Allen, dismounted, and said, "Allen, you're finally back."

Then he noticed Allen's left arm hanging awkwardly. He was about to ask about it, but a look from Allen stopped him.

Smiling, Allen introduced Firentis to everyone, then introduced the members of the company to Firentis.

He then led the group along the broad road toward Wilderness Town. Along the way, people kept bowing to Allen in respect, and he smiled back at his subjects.

Since Allen's residence could not accommodate so many people, he had to put them up at an inn.

He told everyone to rest first. He had arranged a feast, and someone would come to fetch them before noon.

Once everyone had gone to rest in their rooms, Allen followed Bilbo Baggins into his room, chatting with him as they went.

Bilbo Baggins wondered why Allen had singled him out, but did not give it much thought.

The Hobbit had long considered Allen a good friend. Back in Hobbiton, he had already felt that they got along very well.

During their journey, Allen had not only taken great care of him but had also saved his life several times, leaving Bilbo Baggins with a very favorable impression of him.

Allen sat in a chair in the guest room, looking at the puzzled Bilbo, unsure how to begin.

He wanted to see whether his Simulator would react to this world's legendary treasure, the One Ring.

All the way home, Allen had wondered whether his Simulator would absorb the Ring or undergo some sort of system upgrade.

He had even fantasized about whether an upgraded Simulator might let him travel between different worlds.

Little did he realize that this was completely at odds with his earlier thinking.

After pondering for a long time, Allen finally spoke. "Bilbo, I think we can call ourselves friends, can't we?"

Bilbo wondered why Allen would ask such a question. His simple nature was far removed from the complexities of the human mind.

It never occurred to him that someone who wanted something from you would first make sure you were friends.

He nodded and said with certainty, "Of course, Allen. We're definitely friends."

Allen nodded as well, then said with a somewhat troubled expression, "I know you found a magic ring in the Half-orcs' tunnels. Don't be alarmed. Could I take a look? I only need to look at it."

Bilbo scratched his head in embarrassment. "I thought no one had noticed. I'll get it for you right away."

As he spoke, Bilbo hesitated briefly, but in the end, he took the ring from his pocket and handed it to Allen.

Very, very slowly, Allen placed his middle finger on the ring. The Simulator gave no notification, and Allen instantly came to his senses.

For some inexplicable reason, several lines surfaced in his mind.

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Countless images flashed through Allen's mind in an instant, making him shudder.

He hurriedly pulled his finger away from the ring, then stumbled back two steps before regaining his balance.

Allen drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and shook his head hard, trying to bury those images in a corner of his memory.

Bilbo wondered why his friend had reacted so strongly after merely touching the ring. He hurriedly tucked it back into his pocket and asked with concern, "Allen, are you all right?"

Allen shook his head. "I'm fine."

Then he looked at Bilbo with a touch of envy. "Bilbo, you truly are someone to envy. Believe me, you won't just become a master Burglar. You'll become a great person, too."

Bilbo had never received such praise before and grew embarrassed. Blushing, he said, "No, no. How could I possibly deserve praise like that?"

Allen shook his head without explaining any of it in detail. Instead, his expression grew solemn. "Bilbo, keep that ring safe. It will help you a great deal, but you must be careful. It's very precious. Don't let anyone see it."

Without waiting for Bilbo to ask anything else, Allen said, "Get some rest. I'll see you at the feast."

With that, Allen headed for the door without looking back.

Bilbo's voice rang out behind him.

"All right. See you at the feast, Allen."

Allen waved without turning around and quickly left Bilbo's room.

By then, Allen's back was soaked with sweat. He realized that the ring had begun influencing him much earlier.

Clearly, the ring considered Allen a more suitable master, so it had spared no effort in displaying its allure to him-and had successfully frightened him away.

Allen felt both lingering fear and relief. Whatever else had happened, he had ultimately resisted the ring's temptation.